


a missed opportunity

by schmorygilmore



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Romance, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmorygilmore/pseuds/schmorygilmore
Summary: “The only thing I got going on tonight is you.” And he means that. — Pre-canon. Episode Continuation for 4x05.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	a missed opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: twice in one week? we are all surprised. i'm back with my own prompt, because someone posted this scene on twitter and I always thought this could so easily fit into canon. Anyways, special shoutout as always to alyssa (andsocanshe), my personal baby yoda and beta queen and isa (adarveystory) for always yelling at me. 

—

_I remember when I was someone_

_But it's different now_

_I could corner you in the hallway_

_I would always act like I'm in space_

_I was just concerned with the timing falling into place_

—

_a missed opportunity_

—

Glancing at the time on his watch, he takes a quick peek at her cubicle and notices she's still gone to the file room. He knows she'll be leaving soon and he figures if he sneaks out now, he'll have just enough time to make it to the elevator before she knows he's gone. Placing his phone back into his pocket, he straightens his desk quickly and hastily makes a retreat to the elevator banks pushing the button once, twice, three times demanding it hurry its pace.

He's overheard her talking to Louis about this play and he knows she'd been nervous, something Donna never is, stressed about being off-book before the first performance two nights ago. He had briefly overheard her mention her excitement at the success of the first night to Rachel in the breakroom and had heard through the grapevine that she had even enlisted Louis to stand in for an idiot with a broken ankle.

Peering up at the lights seeing them become less and less, he knows tonight is the best night to see her. She's confident, she's secure, she's ready to show the world what she's got and there's no place else he'd rather be. He's seen her onstage several times during their partnership and she never ceases to amaze him. She astounds him daily, but Donna onstage, performing the Bard. Well, that's just a whole new level of wonderment and he won't lie to himself and say he's not excited at just the prospect of surprising her tonight.

Finally reaching the end of his lifted journey, he makes his way through the swirling glass doors and turns the corner on the city street to the flower cart a block away. He knows he has to be quick, that it's nearing time for her to exit and he wants to be sat waiting for her when she makes her way through the doors.

Sifting through the bouquets he finally settles on, what he assumes is a mixed assortment she'll like, pays the man, grasps the bouquet in his hand and makes his quick retreat back to the black Lexus. As he settles himself outside, he catches Ray's eye in the window and the men exchange a glance, Harvey with a sheepish look and Ray with a telling smirk.

Not five minutes later, he sees a flash of blue and red strutting out of the elevator and he wraps his arm around his back to hide his surprise. As she approaches through the double doors, her gaze finally settles on his.

"What are you doing here?" she says on a smirk.

"I'm here to deliver these," he states, whipping the flowers from behind his back.

"Who are those for?" she questions, her finger pointing to the flowers.

God, she's such a smartass. He loves that about her.

"Who do you think they're for? For you, for your dressing room." He retorts. And then there it is, that smile that lights up his insides. The smile that almost makes him puff out his chest in pride, because he loves when he makes her smile like that. "Thank you," she says, a smile still glowing upon her face.

Time for the best part of the surprise.

"Let's go," he says, reaching for the car door. Man, does he love catching her off guard.

"You're coming?" she says in surprise.

"You think I'm gonna miss your closing night?"

"I didn't know you were a Shakespeare fan."

"I'm a Donna fan," he confirms with pride, when he sees that smirk on her lips.

Holding the door open for her, she grasps the flowers in her hand and makes her way into the black sedan before he sees her pause and turn. "You know, Harvey, you don't have to do this. I know you got a lot going on with Mike —"

Yeah, but there's nothing more important than you, he thinks before he responds with, "The only thing I got going on tonight is you." And he means that. Then, the smile is back and yeah maybe he's pretty proud of himself right now.

Making sure she's settled in the car, he shuts her door and makes his way to the other side of the car and makes his way inside. As they pull away from the curb and make their way through the streets to the theater, they sit in companionable silence. He chances a glance out of the corner of his eye and sees her holding the flowers up to her nose, staring out the window, breathing them in with pleasant smirk adoring her lips.

Placing the flowers on the seat between them she rests her head back against the seat and finally fixes her gaze on the side of his face.

"Thank you, Harvey," she says in a hushed tone.

"You're welcome, Donna."

The rest of the car ride is filled with comfortable silence and when they pull up to the theater and exit the car as he thanks Ray with a nod and tells him he'll text him when they're ready to go. Then, he listens as Donna explains that she has to go backstage and get ready. Taking her flowers she heads to the side door, poised to enter when she pauses and turns to him, prepared to say something but he interrupts her with a "Go on, Portia. Don't keep Shylock and his miraculously healed ankle waiting."

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, wondering how he knew, but knowing he listens to, and makes her way into the theater.

—

He's mystified and she's miraculous. He was captivated by the entire performance, just as he knew he would. However, what he didn't expect was how breathtaking she would be. It's been years since he's seen her perform and he almost forgot how natural she is. He can't believe she was ever nervous to begin with, because she lit up the stage like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

He's never been one for plays, let alone Shakespeare, but watching her interact with Bassanio and the princes and listening to her speak about the quality of mercy, he found himself hanging on her every word.

Making his way backstage to see her, she finally appears in a flurry touting a hasty speech about wanting to get out of her costume and she'll meet him out front by the side door, assuming correctly that he intended to take her home. He gives her a nod in response, still at a loss for words from her beauty and stunning performance.

As he waits outside, he attempts to get himself together enough to not make an idiot of himself. Taking a few calming breaths, he waits for her patiently. Several moments pass and then she's bounding out of the actors entrance with two of her co-stars in toe, looking every bit as put together as when she went in. Giving a last goodbye to her fellow actors she turns and gives him a smile, walking over to stand in front of him.

"Well?" she says with a classic smirk.

He pauses, choosing his words carefully, then responds with a soft "Amazing. You were amazing." He almost feels the shy but bright smile that gathers at the corners of her mouth.

"Take me home?" she questions.

He shakes his head and proceeds to tell her he made other plans for them. It's then that she notices the familiar black sedan to the right of them and she lifts a questioning eyebrow in his direction as he guides her to the car with a hand on the small of her back that she tries and fails not to have a physical response to.

Settling into the vehicle, the ride to the restaurant is filled with pleasant chatter from Donna about her fellow co-stars and the way she was almost nervous, admitting she was barely off-book in time for opening night with Harvey hanging on every word she says like she spoke the gospel.

Pulling up to the restaurant she ventures a look outside and sees a cozy italian place greeting them. She waits as he opens the car door for her and then that hand is back at the small of her back.

They dinner flies by with free-flowing conversation of work and the play and how much Donna missed the stage and Harvey wants to bring himself to tell her how wowed he was by her but he just can't seem to find the words, focused solely on the rise and fall of her eyebrows and the way her face lights up when she laughs. He's an active participant, responding when necessary, but he just can't seem to stop thinking about the dazzling woman in front of him lighting up the stage. He just can't focus on anything but the flaming red hair and man alive, does he want this all the time.

He knows they can't, because of her rule and their collective pride, but he also knows he could do this every day of his life and it still won't be enough.

Finishing up their meals and paying the bill, he pulls her chair out for her and then the hand is back on the small of her back guiding her out the front door, and he can't remember the last time they touched this much but she doesn't seem to mind. He thinks maybe she's even enjoying it and part of him wonders how far he could push this tonight, but the more logical part of his brain says "No, you can't."

When Ray appears, he once again opens her car door, allowing her to settle in, then proceeds to his side of the car. When they've pulled away from the curb en route to Donna's apartment, he once again chances a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She really is beautiful.

He thinks she can feel his gaze on her and when she turns from the window toward him, he doesn't look away.

She rests her head against the headrest, keeping her gaze on his and he wants to tell her all the things. He wants to tell her how breathtaking she is and how he wishes he could have this every day but all the things he wants to say fall dead on the tip of his tongue. Then she breaks the silence.

"This was nice," she says again in that hushed tone.

"Good," he responds in his own low tone.

She smiles softly in return and thanks him with her eyes, in that way only they can do for each other and he responds with his own quiet smile telling her without words that he'll never not be there for her, no matter what the circumstances are. After a few moments of further eye contact, she redirects her gaze out the window as he does the same, and that's when he notices they're approaching the nearby surroundings of her building.

Pulling up next to the stairs leading to her front door, he places his hand on her knee gently telling her silently to wait for him to collect her. He gives a nod in the rearview mirror to Ray, yet another person he can silently communicate with and he lets himself out of his side of the car, circling the back and coming to her side. Opening the door he steps back a bit to allow her to exit.

As she stands to her full height, all shining eyes and stunning smile, she takes him in for a moment staring him in the eyes, seemingly waiting for him to respond. He simply steps back and allows her to make her way from the car and he can almost see her shoulders slump slightly, but then she notices he's not climbing back in the car instead he's walking her to the door and her shoulders hold on for one last hope.

Gathering on her stairs, she reaches for her keys in her purse and glances back at him standing there, hands in his pocket. He's almost nervous and he knows she can tell, but the same way he knows her she knows him and so she says nothing. Eyes meet eyes in the dark night and just like they've done all evening, they simply gaze at each other. It's all they can seem to do, the gravity of who they are to each other much too delicate to attempt to break.

He wants to kiss her. He wants her to invite him upstairs. He wants to hold her and never let her go.

But he won't. He can't.

Continuing to find comfort in her eyes, his heart says fuck it, but his brain says stop. He can tell she's getting restless, waiting to see what his next move will be. He wonders if the hope he's reading in her eyes is true or if it's a figment of his imagination.

Suddenly, without communication from his brain or his heart, his body acts on its own and his hand reaches out to brush her hair back from her face and tuck the lock of flaming red behind her ear, hand cupping her jaw softly. He sees her eyebrows raise in surprised response and he can see movement behind her eyes trying to process what's happening and she casts her eyes quickly to his lips then back to his eyes just as fast, almost daring him to take what he wants.

And he almost does.

He feels himself leaning forward. But just as suddenly as it appeared, his bravery dissipates and instead of meeting her lips head on, his lips graze her cheek softly and then he pulls back from her face and his hand falls to back to his side, returning to its previous position in his pocket and her eyes close in briefly in silent surrender.

"Goodnight, Donna," he whispers.

She opens her eyes again and stares at him for a moment, and that hope he thought he saw before is lost, scattered amongst the wreckage of all their "almosts" and "what ifs" and "could bes".

"Goodnight, Harvey," she whispers in disappointed defeat.

Then she turns and just like the moment they almost had, she's gone in a flash.

—

On the ride home with Ray, he stares out the window and wonders how many opportunities he's let slip by just like tonight.

He still can't stop thinking about her up on the stage, full of life and hope and promise. There is no other word to describe how he feels other than captivated. She's always captivated him, since that first night in the bar. She's the voice in his head, the light in his darkness; but she's too big of a risk. He can't lose her, so he always backs off.

When he settles himself in bed that evening, he falls asleep to the sound of her voice reciting words of a man who knew nothing of the love he has for her.

_The quality of mercy is not strained._

_It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven_

_Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest_

―

Making his way through the elevators the next morning, he knows she'll already be there, she's always there before him. He wonders if she'll have a comment about last night, about how he let yet another opportunity slip by. Deep down he knows it'll get swept under the rug like every other almost, though secretly he wishes she'd call him on it, just once.

Rounding the corner of the hallway he sees her engrossed in a document on her desk, pen placed delicately between her lips. She's too enthralled by the brief in front of her to truly acknowledge her presence and he breathes an internal sigh of relief that this moment will go unspoken. He can't bear to face her disappointment, especially after mentally kicking his own ass all over his apartment last night.

Approaching his desk, he notices it. A coffee cup from the place down the street, the place they love. Holding his cup up to his nose he takes a whiff and smells the familiar scent of vanilla and almost smiles with relief, taking the coffee as a peace offering from her. Accepting it as an acknowledgement of understanding from her.

Just when he's about to sit himself at his desk and start the day, he takes a peek down to the paperwork deciding what case he'll tackle next and then he sees it.

There's a bright yellow sticky note filled with her hasty but delicate scrawl. He presses his finger to the corner as it reads

" _You should have gone for it. - D"_

He inhales in a gasp and then chances a look up, through the glass, and his shocked glance meets her knowing gaze, the corners of her mouth turned up on a slight smirk. As they continue to lock eyes, he settles himself in his seat and then just like last night, the moment is gone. Her gaze is redirected back to the document in front of her.

_Goddamnit, he hates missed opportunities._

—

_Though justice be thy plea, consider this:_

_That in the course of justice none of us_

_Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy,_

_And that same prayer doth teach us all to render_

_The deeds of mercy._

—

Song: Drive You Home - The Donnies The Amys  
Excerpt: Portia's "The Quality of Mercy" soliloquy in The Merchant of Venice

—

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Comments / reviews / criticism are always welcome!


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